All Hail The Snow Globe
by sara-cupcaked
Summary: Sara discovers the spirit of Christmas, with a little help from Grissom.


**A/N: **Not fluffy, not angsty either. Just...enjoy :) Once again, huge thanks to Keegan Elizabeth for putting up with my rewrites, over and over again.

--------------------------------------------------

**All Hail The Snow Globe**

--------------------------------------------------

"Find the meaning of life?" he asks, watching her stare out the balcony window, curtains drawn and her legs dangling over the edge of the couch.

"I'm just amazed Las Vegas can shine that much brighter during the Christmas season," she says rather sadly, and he can see the tiny faint dots of light reflect in her eyes from where he's sitting. "Christmas has become nothing more than a reason to rake in more money."

"Is that why you look so sad?"

She blinks, and the dots of light disappear. "I look sad?"

"Not sad…more like reminiscent."

A barely-there smile appears on her lips and she turns away from the open balcony to face him. "I loved Christmas season in Massachusetts. The air was so cold, so fresh, and everything looked clean and new, coated under a layer of snow. Everything was so…pure."

He raises an eyebrow. "I never knew you liked snow."

"I don't," she says with a smile tugging at her lips now. "I just liked the fact it's _there_ during Christmas."

"It's a shame it doesn't snow here in Nevada."

"Yeah," she says before pausing, and turns to look out the window, at the view he paid an extra twenty thousand dollars for.

"This place could do with the appearance of purity."

--

"Merry Christmas" is the first thing she hears as she walks out from the bedroom and into the dining area, weak morning light spilling through the blinds.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she says, settling down at the dining table and accepting the steaming cup of hot chocolate he offers her. A small package greets her, complete up with a red ribbon.

"Um, what's this?"

"A present."

"I don't celebrate Christmas, and I don't have anything for you."

"I do, and it doesn't matter Sara. Just open it, please."

Her heart flutters at the thought of someone going through the trouble of buying her something, at the thought of being loved enough to be offered a present; but she calms the nervous rush inside her.

The ribbon falls away easily as she pulls it, as does the wrapper, to reveal a perfect little snow globe. It's the size of her fist, and she can make out a house standing on a bed of white.

"Look closer."

His breath tickles her neck and she picks it up, the glass cool against her skin. The house is pretty, complete with a white picket fence and three tiny trees that surround it and a dog that sits on the doorstep. She squints, and she can tell it's a boxer.

He clasps his hand over hers and tilts it upside down, before setting it back onto the table.

Her breath catches as she watches the tiny, tiny flakes float around the house and the dog and the trees.

"That's Hank, and that's our house," he explains.

The flakes continue to rush down, one settling delicately on snow-globe-Hank's head.

"When you talked about Massachusetts and the snow, I immediately thought of a snow globe. I broke one once because I pitied the lonely penguin in it. My mother made me clean it up and told me later that the penguin was happy in it, because he's stuck in a perfect world."

She doesn't know what to say, so she just looks at him with bright eyes, her fingers tightening around the globe.

--

"That tofurky tasted like real turkey," he remarks after their little Christmas dinner consisting of tofurky, mash potatoes and fruitcake.

"Mmhm, and thanks for cooking," she says, kissing the tip of his nose lightly.

"See, Christmas dinner isn't so bad, is it?"

She nudges him lightly and leans into him.

They sit there, her nestled in his arms, the silence around them comforting. It's raining outside, and the bright Strip lights are reduced to blurry blobs of colour.

He falls asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and she starts to drift off when a series of popping noises draws her attention to the balcony. It's not loud, but whatever it is sounds hard – like plastic against metal.

"Gil, wake up," she whispers and wriggles out of his warm embrace, pressing her nose to the cold glass. What she sees makes her beam, eyes shining with delight.

"Hail," he says in wonderment, standing behind her while watching ice fall from the dark clouds to the ground, hitting the pavements and asphalt and shattering beautifully. His eyes rise from the ground to where Sara is looking, her eyes watching the dark night's sky.

Clear swirls of colour from the casino lights reflect inside the tiny ice capsules; deep blue to fiery red enclosed in ice.

"Nevada's version of snow?"

"Absolutely," he says, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder.

"There's no point in being stuck in a perfect world enclosed in glass if one is alone," Sara whispers while watching the hail fall. "I would have done exactly what you did – broken the snow globe, because I know it's better to live in an imperfect world with someone by our side…"

"…than to live in a perfect world with no one. I know what it feels like."

She turns and presses her lips to his, and he can taste fruitcake and warmth and bliss.

"Merry Christmas, Gil."

--

**A/N2:** Seven months into writing in the CSI fandom and I finally complete my first Christmas piece. I didn't think I'd last two months writing, let alone more than half a year! All those encouraging reviews, all the friends I've made here mean so much. Thank you to all those who have read and/or reviewed; have a very Merry Christmas! :)


End file.
